Broccoli or Asparagus
by Snape Goes Commando
Summary: Hanna and Zombie smell completely and totally unappetizing to Conrad, and that's good since everyone else he goes around smells disturbingly edible. Which is a bad thing.  Contains copious amount of .../Hanna fluff and a whole lot of cussing


Disclaimer: Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name and all its characters belong to the wonderful genius named Tessa Stone.

TL;DR- Bitch ain't mine.

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It was absolutely maddening. Conrad had reluctantly accepted (kicking and screaming all the way) that the only type of breakfast, lunch, or dinner he'd be seeing would now on would be bagged and bloody until the end of time. (Gone was the forever daunting question of "What should I eat?" It would never plague him again.) Conrad, however, had decidedly _not_ accepted the idea that those handy (and unfortunately delicious) little baggies of blood actually _came from a human being._

That was why it drove him crazy, crazy as_ Hanna_ (actually scratch that. Conrad wasn't and never will be as crazy as Hanna), that every single person who passed him on the street smelled like a mother fucking five course meal. Every. Single. Person. Old people! _Even god damned CHILDREN. _It was revolting and made Conrad want to hide in his apartment forever and barricade his door.

He actually did that for a while. (Not the barricading his door part, but the hiding bit.) One day when it felt like he would just explode if the smell of one more five year old made his mouth water- because that was just so fucking _wrong_ on SO many levels- he hunted down Worth in the creep's disgusting rat infested hole in the wall. After a seven hour argument (not that you could call senseless screaming of insults, five fist fights, and a new hole in the crack job's sorry excuse for a door as an argument) Conrad managed to triumphantly(?) stumble away with a Styrofoam cooler full of about a weeks worth of meals- if he rationed himself.

He couldn't even manage feel smug at getting his way because all the damn shit he had to go through just to 'win' made him feel like he'd 'lost'. He hated Worth. He hated life. It was nothing new. His wins always felt like losses.

It actually sucked being alone just as much as salivating over everyone in his near vicinity when he decided to venture outside. In that way, when Hanna (and his faithful doting sidekick) came crashing down on his doorstep two days later after getting wind of Conrad's strange behavior from Worth, it was almost a welcome intrusion. Almost.

When Hanna did drag him out of his apartment to go watch some stupid meteor shower in the park, Conrad had the presence of mind to notice (when he stopped protesting and pouting about the unfairness of life that is) that neither of his two companions made his throat dry and his teeth ache with hunger. Hanna smelt awful. Wholly unappetizing in all ways. The zombie (or whatever the hell he was. Who really fucking knew?) even smelt better than Hanna (bit like a musty room really), which made no fucking sense what so ever. God. That kid (Hanna would forever be kid in Conrad's mind simply because the other man looked like he was fourteen and it tugged on his heavily hidden heartstrings) was so fucking _weird._ And annoying. Especially when he was jumping up and down and trying to get Conrad to spin with him on the Merry Go Round. (Hanna managed to get enough velocity all by himself that when he let go of the handles to spread his arms out wide, he flew straight off the metal monstrosity. Luckily he flew straight into 'Leonardo' who managed to catch the wayward redhead with an ease that almost made you suspect he knew that was going to happen all along. Perhaps he did. He spent much more time around Hanna than Conrad did, so who knew if he somehow was able to predict when short, dumb, and ginger would suddenly defy all sense of logic and nature?)

Somehow three days later Conrad found himself hovering outside of the door to Hanna's awful cramped apartment (a place that he previously NEVER ever had any intention of entering again) waiting for the smaller boy to get off work. For some reason the apartment's deader resident wasn't there either. (Which was strange. From what Hanna told him the zombie didn't like to leave Hanna alone when he could. Hanna was due to be home fifteen minutes ago.)

"OH HEY! You're still here! SWEET. HEH. Sorry Connie, my boss was like. Having a fit about the zoning and made me stay late, bro." Hanna grinned sheepishly at him, his eyes more apologetic than anything he could say.

Conrad sighed irritably at the nickname and took a deep breath. "Its fine. Where the hell is your damn keeper at anyways? That _THING_ you call a landlady could have spotted me at any moment." Conrad shuddered.

" I 'unno," began Hanna with a shrug as he dug around in his pocket for the key and unlocked the door, "Victor said he had sumthin' to do and he'd be back later than me tonight. MAN. I'm starved. I wonder if we have any potatoes left? I maaaaybe kinda don't feel like ramen noodles tonight."

Hanna walked into the kitchen and set his keys on top of the fridge carelessly (or maybe that was the safest place to put them in this dump?) and opened the fridge. From his place by the door (which he closed and locked himself because apparently Hanna's self preservation instincts were low enough not to caution against potential burglars- not that there was much to steal anyways) Conrad could see a single oblong shape wrapped in foil (the potato he guessed), a few fast food ketchup packets, and an almost empty half gallon of milk. That's all. In the entire fridge.

Hanna 'gnee'd in pure joy and snatched up the baked potato, holding it to his chest like a mother would an infant. If he kissed the damn thing Conrad was so god damn out of here. Not kidding. There were some things worse than being alone and miserable.

Suddenly Hanna's frail figure made so much sense. So did the way he eagerly snatched up any of Conrad's 'cover' dishes when they went out to restaurants. It was…sad. Conrad tried to stop himself from feeling guilty (which made no sense. Its not like it was Conrad's fault that Hanna was too damn poor to feed himself propery- I mean really _ramen noodles_?) and sorry for the smaller man. He didn't think Hanna would appreciate either sentiment.

Hanna turned around to face Conrad after he secured his dinner in the microwave (which looked like it was going to blow out any second now) and grinned at him. (So carefree.) "So. Heh. Watcha wanna do, Connie? HEY! Ferrero and I beat our record of the loooongest lasting Tetris Attack game last night! Ha ha Ferrero is a vicious player man- like you wouldn't belieeeeve." He drew out the word dramatically and waved his hands in an arc as if that would somehow convince Conrad of the zombie's ferocity as a video game player.

Conrad snorted.

The microwave dinged the same moment the door opened from behind him. As Hanna turned around with a "SWEET! Food time!" his nameless partner walked past Conrad and into the tiny kitchen, setting a small paper sack on the counter next to Hanna's plate. Hanna grinned up at the dead man and threw his arms around the mans neck. (He had to strain on his tip toes and the zombie placed one hand on Hanna's hip and the other across his shoulders to steady him. It made something in Conrad twitch.) "GIDEON. I missed you today! Man it was weird to come home and you not be here! It felt lonely even though Conman was with me. Hey! Did you get what your…er…stuff done?"

Conrad spared half a second to feel slightly offended, what was he? Chopped liver?, before deeming it not worth getting worked up over. These two were attached at the hip. Hanna probably misses the zombie when he's in the bathroom taking a piss. (Seriously. Just look at that hug. He'd seen gay man act straighter.)

'Gideon' did that half smile that Hanna got suck a kick out of and let Hanna go as the smaller man took a step back. (It wasn't a big step given how small the kitchen was but at least he wasn't pressed up against the other man intimately anymore.) "Yes Hanna. Mrs. Jackson in room 102 downstairs promised me that if I did a few errands for her today she'd give us a fresh loaf of that potato bread she baked for your birthday last month."

Hanna's eyes lit up to an intensity Conrad had never seen before and whispered (_Whispered? HANNA?)_ breathlessly, "Really?" His eyes were locked (with five deadbolts and a three chains) to his roommate's face with an intensity that implied that his whole life was pending on the other man's answer.

Thin green lips stretched into that familiar half smile. "Really."

Hanna sprung wildly into motion as if to make up for his moment of quiet and stillness. Conrad watched dumbfounded (it seemed as if he'd been totally forgotten by the two, but that was normal with them) as he whooped with joy over simple _food _and gave the zombie another fierce hug.

"Holy SHIT! _Darcy_! You are SO _awesome_. HAVE I TOLD YOU HOW AWESOME YOU ARE TODAY? Cause you totally _are_, man. Awesome that is. Totally awesome. YEAH!"

Over simple food. _Food_. (He didn't care if it contained Hanna's favorite food of all time, it was still just that: food.)

Conrad was suddenly sick of this. He was sick of seeing an every day necessity being treated like rain in the desert. He was sick of standing here not doing anything about it. He was sick of seeing Hanna's tiny, tiny arms and legs (and he was sure if Hanna were to take off his shirt he could count his ribs too) contrast with his freakishly large shoulders. (He was also sick of being ignored but that was neither here nor there. He's used to it anyways.)

Conrad raged, "That. Is. ENOUGH." Hanna looked up from his bite full of the much coveted bread to gape at the vampire in shock. The zombie just gazed calmly at him, completely unconcerned, still hovering over Hanna. Hanna managed to chew and swallow through his shock. "Dude. Conrad. Chill? What's um…Can…OH. Did I do something wrong, man?" he asked worriedly.

The vampire sucked in a deep (completely unneeded and therefore useless) breath, felt his upper lip curl, and jabbed a finger at the ginger, "YOU. Wrap up that damn potato," then he thrust it at the dead man, "And YOU. Make sure he doesn't fucking drop it! We're going to the god damned GROCERY STORE right now for CHRISTS SAKE. I'M NOT LISTENING TO ANOTHER MINUTE OF THIS SHIT!"

Hanna was too shocked to protest (and too poor to refuse) and by the time they got to the nearest 24 hour grocer he was even eager.

The minute they turned their backs on him in the produce aisle Hanna vanished into some obscure part of the store. Conrad tried to share an exasperated look with the zombie, but he just stared unblinkingly at him.

"What?"

"Nooothing." Conrad sighed went back to deciding if Hanna would be more likely to eat broccoli or asparagus. (For the record he wasn't more likely to eat one over the other. Hanna didn't discriminate with his hate for all things vegetables. All were equal in his eye.)

The sound of running feet alerted them to a giant stack of Lucky Charms cereal with legs coming their way. It had familiars shoes.

Oh. It was Hanna. (He really should have known. As if a stack of Lucky Charms with legs would ever be that short.)

His head popped out to the side of the cereal box tower, grinning sheepishly. "Can we?"

Conrad hid his face in his hands. This must be the feeling a mother gets when her child decides they want to help shop as well- based on their own electic taste buds. (If he was the mother, and Hanna was the fucking kid then the zombie was the father. Wait. WHAT. THE. FUCK. Why was he the god damned mother in this again? FUCK. Even his own mind was against him.) He irrationally hoped Hanna wouldn't throw a temper tantrum if he said no cereal. (He had to smother a hysterical giggle when the thought conjured up the image of Hanna kicking and screaming on the floor, spinning in a circle.)

"Hanna. Don't you think that's taking advantage of Conrad's kindness?"

"Erm. NO. Maybe? Yes."

Conrad help up one finger. "One. box."

They ended up getting two.

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Reviewing lets me know that you enjoyed it cause I can't read minds. :C


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